How I Live Now
by LamortdeEff
Summary: 15 year old Elizabeth Davis saw America as her salvation, and it was, until the evacuations started.
1. Chapter 1

I could hear the soft growls of the biters through the darkness that enfolded me. I know that they're pretty far away, and besides, they wouldn't be able to reach me on my high perch in this tree where I decided to make camp for the night.

You'd think that after almost two months of sleeping practically every night on a tree branch your back and neck would get used to it, but the constant pain every time I move my body begs to differ. The six-inch long cut in my side doesn't help much either, and I'm seriously doubting the staples and gauze are helping it heal.

I close my eyes, attempting to get some sort of rest during the few hours left of darkness…

_Snap _

My eyes fly open as I haul myself quickly into a sitting position, ignoring the sudden pain in my right side. The sounds continue as I reach down quietly into my boot, grabbing the small knife I keep stored in there—not risking the potential ruckus I'd make reaching for my bow and arrows.

Heavy breathing became more apparent as the minutes wore on; there was only one biter as far as I could tell. Its clumsy foot steeps got closer and I gripped my knife tighter, preparing to kill it the second I could get a clear view.

I peeked through the leaves, trying to see anything with only the aid of the light given off by the moon. But then I saw it; its back was to me, their short blond hair catching the little light out tonight. Then I jumped, sending a jolt of pain to my stomach the second my right foot hit the hard ground.

The biter turned around, quicker than usual, sending out a high pitched scream.

My knife stopped midway…biters don't scream…they _can't_ scream.

The young girl before me crashed to the ground, curling into a fetal position, sobs pouring from her mouth.

"Hey hey hey, stop screaming." I whispered to the girl, kneeling down close to her, my hands moving in some sort of way to get her to quiet down. "The biters are going to hear you and then we're both dead."

The girl looked up, revealing the one of a child a few years younger than me. Tears were streaming down her dirt covered face which she didn't even bother wiping away. "I want my mommy." She hiccuped quietly.

"Your mum? Do you know where she is?" I almost hit myself right then and there—her mum's most likely dead, so I prepared myself for another round of hysteria.

"She's on the high way." She said through heaving sobs, "I got lost and now I can't find her."

I breathed a sigh of relief, the highway; I knew exactly where that was. But I knew we couldn't go now, the sun has yet to rise and traveling with a hysterical girl wouldn't be the wisest move.

"What's your name?"

"Sophia." She said, wiping her face with her arm, smearing the dirt that was coating her.

"Okay, Sophia" I sighed. "I'm Liz, and if you'll stop crying, I'll get you back to the highway. Alright?"


	2. Chapter 2

It took almost an hour to calm Sophia down enough to stop her sobbing, which was promptly followed by her decline in consciousness.

She must be drained; exhausted from her many days on her own, it's a wonder she's still alive.

"Are you hungry?" I asked once her tears had dried up and the sun began its migration to the sky. She nodded, and I took out the last of the crackers I kept stashed in my bag. She began nibbling on them, quickly transitioning into practically shoving them down her throat. It was only a sleeve of Ritz, but it was the last of my stash. I swallowed down a rude remark with the fact that I planned on going hunting later.

"You talk funny." She stated suddenly, little bits of cracker were stuck around her mouth. I was an only child, which is the only thing I was grateful to my mother for. I could never deal with kids, especially now, but under my own stupid and unlucky actions I got stuck with her.

"I'm not from around here." I told her shortly.

"Where are you from?" She asked between sips from the water bottle that I gave her.

"I'm from Ireland." I said, ignoring the weird look on her face.

"Is that in Georgia?"

"No." I sighed. "It's far away."

"Are your mommy and daddy here too?" She questioned, finishing up the last of the crackers. I began to be able to see her more clearly as the sun rose, and she looked more and more tired and beaten than she did in the dark. Which made me feel slightly sorry for her. But only slightly.

"No, I came here alone."

"Are they alive?" She pressed on

"I'm not sure." I said after choosing my words carefully for a few moments. "Probably not."

"My dad's dead." She stated blatantly.

"Oh." I said, remembering in that moment exactly why I hated being around other people.

She shrugged. "It's okay. He was mean to me, my mommy too. He'd hit her sometimes, me too if I wasn't good."

There wasn't anything you can say to that.

* * *

><p>Sophia fell asleep not long after. She was fighting it for a while—I could tell—trying to convince herself and me that she was up for the long trip back to the highway. It's probably better this way, she can sleep through the afternoon heat and we can continue on in the late afternoon, when it was cooler. That way she won't complain too much about the heat and I could get rid of her by sundown…hopefully.<p>

I haven't had an excuse to stay in the same place for a while, so I took full advantage of it; I cleaned my arrows, ridding them of all biter blood, and took inventory of all the supplies I had.

I also took the opportunity to look at the gash on my side, which was probably a bad idea, there was a yellowish colored puss leaking out from around the staples I put in myself, it started to bleed again too, probably from the long jump I took earlier. I knew from the beginning that I'd need some antibiotics for it, but it was a luxury I didn't have, so I pushed it to the back of my mind, hoping that if I didn't think about it, the cut would heal fine.

Which it didn't…obviously.

By the time Sophia woke up it was probably around three and I had already killed and cooked two squirrels. She ate one, but I stored the other in my bag, saving it for dinner—I wasn't hungry, though I hadn't eaten all day. Probably had something to do with the cut.

"Alright," I said, standing up. "we should go, get you back to your mom."

She nodded, already looking brighter and happier than she had only a few hours ago.

She was a talker, Sophia was, not loud enough to attract biters, but enough for her to keep talking without me really listening, so she seemed to babble on for hours. It was pretty annoying, but I was able to block it out.

Her immediate trust in me was alarming as well, she only met me what...12 hours ago, and she was already comfortable sleeping in front of me and eating the food I gave her without a question. Alarming and frightening and the softer part of me was partially happy that she found me before some of the sickos I've come across did.

I learned a lot about her too, in those hours of walking. She was twelve years old, just started the sixth grade, her group consisted of a few people, she told me their names, but I can't remember them now. A few did stick though, her mom was Carol, their leader Rick, a guy who kind of scared her Daryl, and she also said that there was a boy around my age there, but his name filled among those I can't remember.

We had yet to reach the highway by the time the sun began to set. There was still probably an hour or so of light left, so we continued walking. Though, I did keep an eye out for potential sleeping trees.

"Sophia," I said once it got so dark I couldn't see three meters in front of me. "we're going to have to stop for the night."

"Okay." She sighed, probably disappointed that she'll be going another night without her mom. But she couldn't have been more disappointed than I was.

"Are you good at climbing trees?"

After twenty minutes of guiding and spotting, Sophia and I were successfully on a thick tree branch

"How will I not fall out?" She questioned, her voice sounding small and scared compared to the one she's been talking with for all damn day.

"With this." I told her, pulling the long rope out of my backpack. "I'll tie you in before you fall asleep. Are you hungry?"

She nodded and I gave the other squirrel to her, she offered me some, but I declined, still having absolutely no appetite. Even the smell of the meat made me nauseous.

Late into the night, long after Sophia was tied in and asleep, I still sat awake. I know I should be exhausted, and deep down I probably was, but I wanted to stay awake—partially because I gave the only rope to Sophia, but also because the responsibility of guarding another person fought for me to stay awake, as much as I resented it.

* * *

><p>"It's really hot." Sophia said for probably the tenth time today, causing me to roll my eyes for the millionth.<p>

It's not that I disagreed with her. She was completely right, but her continuous complaining made the unbearable heat somehow more unbearable.

It was late afternoon, and I'm continuing to resist the urge to stop for the hundredth time today. I felt like I was on the verge of fainting; I mean, I've never fainted before but I imagine it would feel something like this.

We were currently taking a long route to the highway—a heard of biters blocked the direct way—so we've been walking along the outskirts of an open field to get to the back roads that lead to the freeway.

"Do you think anyone lives there?" Sophia asked. She was pointing to a farm, more specifically the large white house that looks practically untouched.

"I'm not sure, maybe." I told her as I continued walking, knowing that if I stop to look longingly at the house like Sophia's doing I wouldn't have the strength to start walking again.

I heard her gasp behind me, and I turned to see that I had walked further ahead of her than I thought, and she was still on the edge of the woods facing the farm. "That's Dale's!" She practically screamed, taking off into open field.

"Sophia." I called, not having the strength the run after her. "Wait." She stopped.

"Look." She panted, excitement and glee appearing on her dirty face as she pointed towards a mobile home parked outside the house. "It's Dale's. He's part of my group, my mommy's here!"

"Sophia." I began, barely resisting the urge to yell as I looked over the unknown house. "I don't think going in there is a good idea, we don't know who or what is in there…"

"Yeah we do, it's my mom, it's my group."

I sighed, looking as the house again for any biters or open doors they could come out of. "Fine," I snapped. "We'll try." We walked the rest of the way up to the homely looking perch, one with a swing and a table set.

"Should we knock?" Sophia asked once we reached the big wooden door.

I shrugged. "I guess, get behind me though." Once she did I loaded my bow and reached up my fisted hand to knock three sharp times.

I heard rustling inside immediately and I raised my loaded bow. I first believed that there were only biters in there, and I wasn't at all relieved when I heard the sound of muffled voices, men's voices more specifically. I considered turning around, knowing that even with a bow and a knife, neither of us would be able to fight them off if this went bad.

It was too late though, before I could collect a coherent thought, the door swung open revealing a man who appeared to be in his late 30's. He looked pretty kind; except for the fact he had a gun pointed at my head, his eyes only on me. I froze, my arrow pointed straight at him, he had the door open just enough so I could only see him, leaving me with no clue of who I was dealing with.

His mouth opened as if he was about to say something when Sophia ran past me. "Rick!" She screamed, hugging the man around his waist; his hands raised up, shock written all over his face.

"Mommy." She soon screamed, releasing Rick and running further into the house, up to a woman I could now see with the door more opened.

"Sophia?" She nearly cried, wrapping her arms around the young girl.

After a moment or two of watching their happy reunion, the man in the doorway turned towards me, his gun lowered to match my bow, still armed, but not a threat. "Thank you." He said, the kindness I expected from earlier becoming apparent on his face.

I nodded, wondering if that was my cue to leave.

He stepped away from the doorway, opening it wider and welcoming me in. "Would you like to come in? We could get you some food and water, or anything else you need."

"No, I don't want to bother you." I told him, backing away a bit from the door.

"It wouldn't be a bother at all." He opened the door wider, enforcing his request. "Please, it's the least we could do."

I considered running, bounding down the porch and across the field, but just that simple thought caused a pain to erupt in my side. This house didn't feel safe to me at all, and stepping in would be taking a risk I've been so careful to avoid. But I knew if I ran—if I walked even—I wouldn't make it far, probably only half way across the lawn before I'd collapse; so I nodded hesitantly and stepped into the house.


End file.
